


mo chridhe

by kickinmyfeelings



Series: klance positivity week [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Fluff and Angst, M/M, brief mention of period typical homophobia and germanophobia, brief shiro and romelle cameos, kind of steamy at the end but it’s literally nothing, lance and keith are from scotland so have that in mind for their accents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickinmyfeelings/pseuds/kickinmyfeelings
Summary: Lance stood there, watching as the first tears started falling from Keith’s eyes. He was there in no time, putting his arms around him. Keith trembled and try to get away, groaning. “What if he’s already gone? What am I going to do, Lance?”“Don’t say that, Keith, we both know Shiro will be back in no time to boss us around!” Lance ran a hand through Keith’s hair, feeling him relax under his touch. “The war is over, you heard it too, he’s probably going to call in…” the telephone rang, making them both jump from their embrace. They stared at each other with wide eyes. “... no time.”





	mo chridhe

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a sucker for royalty, and since I saw A Royal Night Out I wanted to write something with it. I also wanted to write kind of a Klance version of Stucky, but I won’t let my babies go to war. So this is my attempt at the historical prompt! (Mo chridhe means my heart in Scottish so yeah)

“Come on, Keith, it’s VE Day! Everyone is outside partying!” Lance exclaimed, opening the window to let the shouting in the streets be heard in their living room. “Do you hear that? We have to get out!” 

 

Keith didn’t even turn his eyes away from the radio, but Lance wasn’t going to be giving up so easily. Since Victory was announced, Keith had been glued to the old radio they had in their apartment, as if it was going to give him the answers he wanted. 

 

“Shiro’s coming back, Keith.” At that, the other man twitched, his breath stopping. “He’s probably on a plane right now, coming back.” 

 

“And if he isn’t? Lance, what if he isn’t coming back?” Keith voice was pure rage, and he stood up, punching the table. “Everybody is out there partying, why are you even here? Veronica’s already back, you deserve it!” 

 

Lance stood there, watching as the first tears started falling from Keith’s eyes. He was there in no time, putting his arms around him. Keith trembled and try to get away, groaning. “What if he’s already gone? What am I going to do, Lance?”

 

And he couldn’t help but feel helpless, because he knew how much the man meant to Keith. He had been there when Keith arrived at Shiro’s house after his father’s death, a tiny boy full of anger who didn’t want to live with his aunt. He saw how Shiro was the first to get Keith to open up, to smile and actually get out of the house to meet boys his age before starting school. Shiro was the one to sit them down after they got on a fight and talk about patience and controlling their temper. Shiro was also the one to talk them into giving up the idea of going to war, asking them to apply to University instead. Shiro was the only constant thing in Keith’s life, besides Lance, and it was hard even for him to think of a life without his kindness and brotherly love for both Keith and Lance. 

 

“Don’t say that, Keith, we both know Shiro will be back in no time to boss us around!” Lance ran a hand through Keith’s hair, feeling him relax under his touch. “The war is over, you heard it too, he’s probably going to call in…” the telephone rang, making them both jump from their embrace. They stared at each other with wide eyes. “... no time.”

 

Keith ran the small distance between the table and the telephone, almost tripping. His grip on the tube was making his knuckles turn white, and he took a breath before answering. “... Hello?” 

 

Lance walked to him, watching his eyes go even bigger, his shoulders relax, and the tears flow much more rapidly than before. He didn’t talk, he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Lance put a hand on his shoulder, trying to hear what the person at the end of the line was saying. 

 

“Shiro… I…” Lance smiled, and Keith followed him, turning his head to look at Lance while talking. “I missed you… I’ll make sure… Yes, yes… I’m with Lance… Oh, shut up…” a shaky laugh escaped from his lips, and Lance smile grew even bigger. “Okay, have a good night… I… I love you, Shiro… Take care…”

 

The conversation was over as soon as it began, and Keith started shaking like he was about to explode. He took Lance hand in his own and looked at him through tears. “He doesn’t know where he is yet… But he’ll jump on a train tomorrow morning… He’s… He’s coming back Lance!” 

 

Lance almost had no time catching him when Keith practically jumped into his arms, a mess of sobs and laughter. The people in the streets were singing, and Lance couldn’t help but laugh too. And soon they were falling to the floor, laughter and tears and arms holding each other like they’d always done. 

 

“Is it a good time to tell you we should be going out to party with the rest of England?” Lance asked between laughs, making sure Keith was looking at him. 

 

“Are you paying?” 

 

*******

 

Lance wasn’t quite sure how they ended up on Trafalgar Square when they were in a pub on South Kensington when they started drinking. In a moment of regained consciousness, Lance realised he was holding a pretty girls waist and Keith was nowhere in sight. 

 

“Are you looking for your pretty friend?” The girl asked when she noticed Lance’s confusion. 

 

“Yes… Did you see him?” Wow, since when was Lance slurring his words like a drunk sailor?

 

The girl shrugged. “He screamed something about seeing the King and ran… I think he’s in Buckingham Palace? Or maybe in an alley, he looked pretty sleepy already.” 

 

_ Oh, shit.  _

 

“Sorry for leaving you but I have to find him…” the girl shrugged again at Lance’s words, not wasting any time in leaving him. 

 

_ Shit. Shit. SHIT. _

 

Lord Kolivan was going to kill him if he lost his nephew. Shiro was going to kill him if he lost his brother. God, his mamá was going to revive him to kill him again for losing Keith. 

 

When did he started running? His legs were even faster than his thoughts. Buckingham Palace was near, he knew that. How did his legs know where to go? God, he was going to vomit. How was he going to find Keith? 

 

The street near Buckingham was so full of people. Lance was going to faint. And vomit. And then die at the hands of Lord Kolivan, who was probably already on a train to London to murder him. He started pushing, trying to get through the crowd. Everybody was screaming, waving flags, singing and drinking. 

 

“KEITH!” he heard someone shout frantically. 

 

Oh, wait, that  _ was _ him. 

 

He hadn’t even gotten to the middle of the crowd when someone grabbed his shoulder, making him turn. An unfamiliar face was staring at him with a knowing smirk. 

 

“Are you looking for  _ this _ Keith?” And there he was, hanging from the neck of this blonde girl and crying. He looked at Lance, and his whole body lit up like a Christmas tree. 

 

“Lance! Here he is! I told you he was coming to get me!” Keith laughed, throwing himself into Lance’s arms for the second time that night. “Laaance! This is Romelle! She’s the one who works in the library next to Hunk’s bakery! Romeeelle! This is Lance! I live with him!” 

 

“I know Lance.” she laughed, before Lance could say anything. “You showed me the photo of you two, remember?” 

 

“Shhh Romelle! That’s a secret!” Keith slurred, very serious, before dissolving into laughter again. 

 

“I’m… very confused.” Lance managed, and Romelle rolled her eyes. 

 

“You both should go home, Keith already cried when the King and the Queen came out, he’ll probably fall asleep in five minutes… Also, how is he even more scottish when drunk? I don’t understand half of what he’s saying.” 

 

At her words, Keith hold Lance’s arms too tightly, looking into his eyes. “I saw history, Lance, the King and the Queen were there! They are so majestic, Lance!” Oh, yes, he could notice how an Englishwoman like Romelle was confused by Keith’s slurred Scottish accent. 

 

“I’m glad you saw them, Keith.” Lance felt his face burning. Keith was close.  _ Too close _ . “Shall we go back now? It’s getting late.” 

 

Lance had no idea what time it was. Probably way past two. He felt tired. Keith yawned in response. Romelle waved and lost herself in the crowd, leaving them both alone in a sea of people.

 

*******

 

The way back was a nightmare. 

 

All the taxis were taken, and the party in the streets wasn’t going away. His head was pounding when he got into a cab, and Keith fell asleep on his shoulder. The cabbie was singing some nursery rhyme. Keith’s nose was on his neck, tickling him. Lance was going to explode. He just needed to get home, maybe drink some tea to calm his headache, and then get some well deserved sleep. 

 

Getting Keith out of the taxi was a completely different story. He mumbled something under his breath, but never opened his eyes, so Lance had to drag him all the way up to the lift –he could still feel the cabbie’s laugh even when the taxi sped away–, and Lance was starting to get even more tired. Keith had always been bigger than Lance, probably because he didn’t just run like Lance, he also did every kind of physical activity that didn’t mean to leave the apartment. So, all the muscles were kind of making it hard for Lance to hold onto him. 

 

When he got to the door, Keith stirred and lifted his head up to look at Lance. “Are we home?” 

 

Lance’s heart was beating so hard it’d probably wake up all the neighbours. It was kind of strange to see Keith so calm when they were this close. Even if Lance was more affectionate than most of the men his age they knew, Keith was the complete opposite, and seemed to only want physical touch when he was feeling down… And even then, only Lance was allowed to do things like hug him and touch his hair.

 

But there he was, his hand on Lance’s shoulder, his hip next to Lance’s hip, his head only a breath away from Lance’s head… And his face was open, relaxed, his eyes sparkling under the dim light of the hallway. 

 

“Y-Yeah, Keith, we are home.” Lance nodded, feeling his face go hot, struggling to open the door when all his senses were screaming at him to turn and continue looking at Keith. 

 

Keith hummed in response. Lance headed straight to Keith’s room, and threw him into the bed, making him laugh like a child. Lance smiled, patting Keith’s forehead. Keith always did that when they were children and were sleeping together, a sign to make Lance speak softer because he was falling asleep, make him scoot closer so Lance’s siblings wouldn’t listen to whatever they were saying, back when it wasn’t a problem for them to sleep in the same bed. 

 

Keith‘s laugh stopped, replaced by a soft smile. Lance started getting out of the room before turning around. “I’m going to make some tea, will you stay awake?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Keith mumbled, yawning. “Try not to burn the street down.” 

 

Lance groaned, leaving the room while throwing his arms in an over-the-top manner. He felt Keith’s smirk burn his neck. 

 

He made tea, the known motions helping him calm his beating heart, humming a song he had heard in the street but couldn’t remember the lyrics to. He made a mental note of calling Veronica tomorrow, to tell him about Shiro’s return, and ask when she was going to visit their family, to maybe go with her. 

 

He started drinking, making his way to the hallway, ready to sit on his bed and relax… But his feet made him face the opposite direction, to Keith’s bedroom. He didn’t close the door, so he could see Keith’s silhouette on the window, smoking, his face looking as relaxed as he did before.

 

“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” Lance said, entering without asking, he knew he was always welcomed wherever Keith was. “You seemed pretty tired.”

 

“Wanted to clear my head a bit.” Keith shrugged, his eyes stuck on something in the street. Lance left the cup on Keith’s nightstand, walking over to where he was. “Remember that time we got drunk with Kolivan’s whiskey?” 

 

Lance laughed at the memory. “We woke up near the lake, without a shoe and wearing that hideous quilts your uncle gifted you when you were 13.”

 

Keith snorted, passing him the fag he was smoking. Lance took a long drag, watching the smoke pour out the window into the night. 

 

“I miss Scotland.” Lance said, giving Keith his fag back. “I mean… I don’t miss the gits that lived there, I just mean how easy life actually was back then, before the war.”

 

Keith took a drag, waiting before answering. “I never thanked you for that.” Lance must have looked very confused, because Keith continued without missing a beat. “For making life easy, I mean.” 

 

Lance shrugged, feeling the hotness in his face again. “I didn’t do much, I was just your friend.”

 

Keith turned to him, his face wide open, smiling without showing his teeth. His eyes were soft, full of affection. “I’d never be here where I am without you, Lance” 

 

He blinked, shifting his weight to another leg, feeling suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of attention Keith was placing on him. “Keith, I…”

 

“No, Lance, hear me out.” Keith put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, putting out the cigarette in the tray, then sighing. “Remember that time those gits were punching and kicking and calling me names?” And Lance remembered, of course he did, just thinking about that made his blood boil. “You saved me, you came down looking like a crazy kid with your father’s gun, even though we both knew he hadn’t bought ammunition because you were short on money… And you shouted and they ran like little babies… I don’t know what I would have done without you.” 

 

“You would’ve been fine…”

 

“Don’t put yourself down, Lance, not when I know  _ who _ you are… Without you I would’ve never survived living with Uncle Kolivan, I would still be hating the German blood that runs through my veins, I would’ve never been fit to come to London or even stay and be the Lord I’m expected to be…” 

 

Lance was overwhelmed. Keith wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, and even though Lance knew Keith was very fond of him, this was a type of affection Lance didn’t know. Not from Keith, not from anyone. Because Lance considered Hunk to be like a brother since he met him, but Keith was never like that, and he knew it. 

 

Keith’s hand travelled from Lance’s shoulder to his cheek, cupping it. He felt his knees weaken, his face melt down under the intensity of Keith’s eyes. He knew those eyes, he’d seen them everyday since they were 8, they followed him wherever he went, and he followed them. 

 

“ _ Keith.”  _

 

“Remember that time we got drunk with Kolivan’s whiskey?”

 

And he remembered, of course he did. They both were young, scared about their future when everyone around them was talking about  _ war _ . They talked about joining the Army, leaving Scotland, travelling together when it ended, visiting Cuba. Lance wanted to be a marine biologist, Keith wanted to be a historian. They lay under the stars and whispered their fears, they saw each other and got so close their bodies were practically one. 

 

“You looked beautiful… You still are.” Lance managed, and smiled when he saw the blush take over Keith’s face. Bless (or damned?) the alcohol still in his system, making him continue. “Your eyes were made to be looked at with the stars, even though they clearly outshine them…”

 

“ _ Lance.”  _ Keith whispered, his eyes travelling down. 

 

_ Danger. Danger. Wrong. Wrong. This is Keith.  _

 

_ This is Keith.  _

 

“Kiss me.” 

 

And Keith complied. And it felt like everything he had ever done in his life was meant for this moment. 

 

This moment, when Keith grabbed his neck and pulled him forward, like he had been starving, and it felt like it. It felt like every piece of themselves were finally coming together. It felt like he had always been waiting for this. To run his fingers through Keith’s hair while his lips were on him, while his neck was being pulled by Keith. 

 

They broke apart, their eyes never opening, their foreheads and noses touching. They were breathing heavily. 

 

It wasn’t long before Lance pulled Keith again, for another kiss, stumbling backwards until his legs hit the bed. He flipped them, then, making Keith fall into it. Keith groaned, and Lance felt his whole body shivering, his hands gripping Keith’s waist harder than he ever held anything. 

 

He broke apart, trying to catch his breath, opening his eyes to look at the other man. He was red, from his ears to his cheeks to his lips. Lance put a hand on his cheek, letting a shaky breath. 

 

“Are you sure?” Keith blinked in response, and Lance tried to steady his heart to continue talking. “I… we know this isn’t… right.” 

 

Keith pursed his lips. His hand reached to the pocket in his jacket, the one on his chest. He took out a folded paper, unfolding it to show him a photograph. “Remember when I nagged Uncle Kolivan until he bought a camera? And then I made him take pictures of us riding bikes to see if it could capture movement?” Lance nodded. “He didn’t stop when we stopped riding, and I… I never showed you this, I thought you’d be mad for having something like  _ this _ .” 

 

And Lance understood perfectly. They had been called all kinds of names during their teenage years, and if anyone saw that picture, they would’ve be in trouble. Lance and Keith were looking at each other, holding their bikes. Keith was laughing, while Lance was wearing a big smile, probably because of a joke he’d said. He never realised they looked at each other like  _ that _ , like Lance’s parents looked at each other, like they were…

 

“Keith, I…” Keith didn’t let him finish, folding the picture and taking Lance’s hand in his.

 

“ _ Lance _ ,” he whispered, like he didn’t want anyone but him to listen, forever. “It’s  _ you _ , Lance, it’s  _ always _ been  _ you. _ ” he guided Lance’s hand to the pocket were the photograph was, to his heart. “ _ Mo chridhe. _ ”

  
Lance couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of _Keith_ flood him, fill him to the brim. This time his kiss was soft, warm, but with the same intensity and craving at the bottom of it. “ _Mo chridhe._ ” he whispered over Keith’s lips, his hand pressing lightly over his chest. 

 

Keith grabbed his waist, pushing him lightly so he fell to his side, their legs tangled. Lance bumped their noses together, making Keith snort. 

 

They opened their eyes, staring at each other tenderly. Outside the people were leaving the streets; inside, Lance’s tea had gone cold. 

 

“Tomorrow’s your turn of making breakfast.” Lance mumbled, and Keith rolled his eyes in response, pulling Lance closer, burying his face in his chest, Lance’s chin resting in his hair. 

 

“Goodnight, Lance.”

 

“Goodnight, Keith.” 

 

Lance closed his eyes, running his fingers through Keith’s hair. “You’re wearing your jacket to bed.” Keith groaned, kicking his feet. Lance chuckled. 

 

He waited until he felt Keith’s breath even out, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, Keith.” 

 

He could almost see Keith’s sleepy smile. 

 

“I love you too, Lance.” 


End file.
